Moments Like These
by Meriwether
Summary: Post:JPF Dealing with the past can be difficult knowing that you lived a life you may never get back. How long will he be haunted by his memories, and how long until he can make new ones? [WoodyJordan]
1. Introduction

**Moments Like These: Introduction  
**  
Progress had been slow, and some days were definitely harder then others. He had little to do anymore. He read a lot, but usually found himself unable to concentrate. His mind often drifted away from him, letting his memories flow freely. Like his first day meeting Boston's very own "Mulder and Scully".

"_What do you think, Doc?"_

"_I'm not the resident conspiracy theorist."_

"_You guys are like a regular Mulder and Scully. You know, except switched around. You're more like Mulder… and you're more like…"_

"_Thanks Woody. I got it."_

"_I love that show…"_

His face slightly reddened at the memory. He had grown up a lot since then, but the more he thought about it, the more he doubted he was even the same person. And he couldn't be sure if that was a good thing. If he wasn't so physically exhausted and emotionally drained, he might have laughed at the naivety he once held.

It was moments like these that he hated her. He hated having those few memories when he was just completely content with her just being herself. Simply herself.

He hated that he had been so close to her… had her just within his grasp… and if maybe he had reached a little further… a little sooner… maybe things would be different.

But now? Now he's lost any chance of ever being able to lift her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Kiss away all those insecurities, doubts and fears. Regret can be one of the most painful things to experience. And he seemed to have a lot of that lately. Regrets.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've actually been sitting on this story for a while but my failure-of-storytelling made it very difficult to finish. I am in no way a professional writer, I've never taken a formal writing class and I'm a highschool dropout. An audio commentary by Joss Whedon actually pushed me to finish. 

He explains that one of the first lessons he learned as a writer was that when a story doesn't work, you have to take the part that you loved, the part that made you write the story in the first place, and cut it. And the story will work.

So that's what I did. I have a feeling this won't turn out how I want it... but I'll finish if anyone out there thinks they might enjoy it.


	2. Regret

**Regret**

It was moments like these that he regretted his decisions. He even resented himself for letting it turn out this way.

She was lying there, head down, hunched over her desk. Her beautiful long hair falling loosely over her shoulders and down her back. She was in one of the most uncomfortable positions, but sound asleep anyway. He himself had grown all-to familiar with that position. And he was also fairly certain this was becoming a regular thing for her. But also one of those topics that no one dares to bring up, except in hushed whispers, completely out ear shot from her. Questioning it would only make it worse. It was better to just let her grieve in her own way. If she ever had any resemblance of a social life it was certainly far-gone by now.

He walked silently through the morgue halls, feeling an eerie sense creep up on him. Or wait—_it was just Nigel_.

Woody let out a sigh and leaned tiredly against the doorframe, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, "I'm really not in the mood."

"Who is this these days?" He replied, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

"Don't look at me like that, Nige." he said, shaking his head.

"You know, I'd be castrated on the spot if I was found conversing with you."

"So what do you want? I don't need another person trying to make me feel guilty." He said shortly.

"Why'd you do it, mate? Why'd you have to ruin everything? Why'd you have to destroy her?" He finished, sounding further distressed then he intended.

"No. That is not fair. You know that more then anyone else." he paused, taking in another full glance of her, "She dug her own grave."

Nigel too glanced at her. "She doesn't deserve this."

Woody lowered his eyes to floor and gently pushed himself upright, "That's not my problem."

Nigel silently fought the urge to show Woody an entirely new meaning of pain. He watched, anger pulsing through his veins, as he slowly limped back toward the elevator.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So it's been months since I started this, I just haven't had the energy to keep at it. I really appreciate everyone being so supportive! I know these parts have been so short, but the chapters will be getting much longer from now on. My New Year resolution was to finish all these stories I've left halfway done :) 


	3. Amazement

**Amazement**

It was moments like these where if he already wasn't in so much pain and had to struggle everyday to just keep his body intact, he would hit himself for being such a moron.

It amazed him how elegant she could look in just about anything. But this dress, this silky red dress, that hugged all her right curves, was on a whole other level.

This must be what insanity feels like.

He could have easily made up an excuse to stay home, "a complete lack of energy." But these people were his friends, his family and supported him everyday. Every single day to no avail, which was greatly appreciated. But each day, he couldn't stop himself from stealing quick glances around his hospital room, as his loyal friends would pile in. He couldn't stop himself from glancing around whenever he left his room, hoping to catch sight of her beautiful, wavy curls wandering down the halls. Though she was never there, and as much as it pained him to admit it, even if her declaration of love for him was under false pretenses, he still missed her and still hoped she would come back to him.

He violently shook his head clear of these thoughts and tried to focus his gaze back to the party.

He let out a strained sigh. The party. Which brings me to why I'm even here. Lily alone had done so much for me in these last few weeks of recovery. It was only right for me to come. I could tell she was beyond nervous when she broached the subject.

* * *

_A Few Weeks Earlier_

"Hey there."

"Hey yourself."

"How're you feeling?" Lily asked, genuinely concerned as she seated herself across from him.

"I think the hole in my stomach shrunk a few sizes." he replied, awkwardly adjusting himself on his bed.

"Oh. Good." she paused, "That's good, right?" with a worried look.

"It's good, Lily."

"So, I can't stay very long."

"That's okay, I'm exhausted enough to sleep through this whole week." They shared sad smile.

"I wanted to talk to you about something though." She said feeling her uneasiness grow.

His gaze quickly met hers and alarm bells automatically went off in his head. He had successfully avoided the Jordan topic so far. He couldn't deal with anybody pressuring him about it, or blaming him for her state of distress.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to come. You have no obligation, or anything. I'd totally understand if you weren't feeling up to it." Her eyes fell quickly to the floor.

"What is it, Lily?" he asked, the suspicion in his voice was obvious.

"I'm just trying to get everyone together again, just for a night. Celebrate another year of Lily?" she looked hopefully into his eyes as he doesn't respond, "But really, you don't have to come." She finished, shaking her head.

"Do you want me to be there?"

"Of course…" the shock in her voice was apparent.

"Then let's celebrate another year of Lily." He smiled

"Woody..." She said slowly.

"Lily, I'll be there."

"Thanks, this means so much to me." She smiled one last time and silently left his room.

He smiled back, but it slowly faded from his lips as he felt his heart sink even further down his chest. Everybody was always too afraid to mention Jordan and for good reason it. They knew it would upset him.

_But sometimes it just feels like she doesn't even exist anymore. Maybe if someone could just say her name… So I know she's out there, living… and breathing…_

Woody slowly leaned back against his bed, "Jordan…"


End file.
